Ever since I started passionately pursuing a relationship with Jesus at the age of eighteen, I’d say I’ve been pretty open with God—telling Him all about my shortcomings, failures, successes, hopes and dreams. However, about two or so years ago, a new depth of relationship was brought to my attention. It felt like for months on end I kept hearing stories and testimonies of people receiving breakthrough in areas of their lives that they had been bound in for years. Curious, I started asking questions. These questions led to me hearing stories that left my jaw dropped in amazement. I had no clue that breakthrough and freedom of this sort was even possible. Hungry, I began crying out for this sort of freedom to flood my own life.
If my history with God has taught me anything, it is that He is faithful to answer prayers that align with His will for our lives, and His will for our lives is that we be a people who are fully—and I mean fully—free.
And if there is anything that seeing this audacious prayer answered has taught me, it is that Freedom is costly.
Huh? FREE-dom? Costly?
Uprooting years of lies, repairing a fractured lense, confronting hurts that you swore you were past, and addressing wounds that never properly healed isn’t a light feat. It demands persistence to continue moving forward when in the middle of the journey you have a hard time remembering why you even started down this road in the first place.
When I asked Jesus to take me on this journey of becoming free, I had no clue what it would require of me. I had no clue that it would demand surrendering a victim-mentality so I could pick up a weightier perspective of victory. Or that it meant taking the lid off a can of worms, that for years, I denied existed. I had no clue it would mean stepping out in faith with zero idea of how God was going to come through. That I would have to humble myself and apologize when my pride craved being right. Or that I would sew countless tears in faith that eventually joy would be mine to reap.
If I am being totally honest, I am so not on the other side of this journey. I am still walking this road. It seems like there is always something being brought to my attention that requires some sort of surrender. The further I continue down this road, the more clearly I am able to see God for who He is—kind, so very patient, steadfast, undaunted, full of compassion, and always ready to shower me in love.
The most challenging part of this freedom walk has been confronting my own brokenness. But at the same time, the best part of this freedom walk has been confronting my own brokenness. Because it has been in these moments of confrontation that I don’t receive what I anticipate. My flesh expects punishment, condemnation, and to feel exposed. What I’ve encountered has been anything but that. In these moments of bare exposure I have continually been met by a God that covers me, heals me, loves me and nurses me back to health. It is the goodness of God that leads to repentance (Romans 2:4), His still, small voice that silences our accusers (John 8:7), and His arms that embrace that parts of our hearts that so often wander away from Him (Luke 15:20).
I am convinced that in the middle of our brokenness is something precious—a deep and profound encounter with the goodness of God that sets us free. Facing your pain, expecting rejection, but receiving love instead is one of the greatest gifts that our brokenness has to offer.
Whether you are miles ahead of me on this journey, just getting started, or had no clue this road was even an available to you—I pray that today you are filled with a surge of courage to carry on in your freedom walk, and that with each step you’d be met by perfect love and find that life abundant is yours for the taking.